


three west, eight down

by doofusface



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Crushes, Cute, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Requited Love, Sort Of, Speculation, awkward teens, ish???, it's a lot of middle ground ill tell ya what, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: It starts with a lift.





	three west, eight down

**Author's Note:**

> possible ffh spoilers in there unless they cut the footage so you've been warned
> 
> quick lil thing so i can get this out of my system and go back to the decathlon fic bluhh

It starts with a lift.

It starts with a swing, and a drop, and a whole lotta yelling.

It starts with a new suit, designed by Princess Shuri herself, and a reintegrated Karen inside.

It starts where it always starts for him, and for her—in the city that never sleeps.

In the light of day.

In serendipity.

* * *

It’s kinda stupid.

Peter’s aware of this.

It’s unnecessary, too, because her legs are longer than his, and she walks fast enough to disappear to her next class at the end of the hall right after lunch, so he knows eight blocks and three avenues would go by pretty quick with her current stride.

This could go terribly.

South.

Or down into the core of the earth.

Where people and things spontaneously combust.

That could be him.

It _will_ be him.

But…

Some things are worth testing the inflammable properties of your suit for.

Even if it’s a little clichéd, which she can’t hold against him, really, because he’s _him_ , and that’s not changing anytime soon.

And he knows MJ—disrupting the core fabric of a person she knows to be genuine—to be _good_ —is not how she rolls.

 _And_ , like, she already kissed him that one time at the airport after they got home, so.

Really.

No take-backs at this point, right?

* * *

“Uh,” is how MJ greets him.

 _Uh_ , and a fumbling stop, almost running into him, because he’d swung down and flung off a street lamp, landing right in front of her speed-walking form and teetering a little forward himself.

(If he notes her walk to have been both _effortlessly graceful_ and _the epitome of nature’s wrath_ in his mind, he says nothing.)

“Hey!” he says, mask’s eyes squinting to follow his—embarrassingly wide—smile.

(He didn’t! Think! This! Through!)

“Hey,” she says, smiling easy and pocketing her phone.

(Ohhhh, _noooo_.

He wants to marry that smile.)

(This is way worse than Ned thinks.)

(...This is _exactly_ as bad as May thinks.)

“I was just—” Peter says, pointing vaguely behind her, “—I, uh.” _Ahem_ , as his voice rises in pitch. “Where ya headed?”

MJ does _That Pout_ , like when she’s contemplating her answer at the speed of a render farm.

The quick one.

The _Decathlon Meet Winner_ one.

The one he thinks caused his entire existence to brighten when he started noticing it.

Started tripping over and diving deep to meet it halfway, just because.

(Oh, _man_.

This was a bad idea.)

“Just—Penn,” she says, voice soft.

(It’s a little bit of a stammer and he’s filing that away _forever_.)

 _Cough._ “Do you—”

(Ned is going to kill him when he finds out about this.)

“—do you want a lift?”

“Um,” she blinks, “yeah, okay.”

“Okay?” he echoes, eyes widening.

“Okay,” she repeats, stepping to his side, arms automatically wrapping around his neck. She frowns. “Do I just—”

 _Gulp._ “ _Uh_ , yeah, _yup_ , just—just hold on tight,” he manages to say without blacking out, looking to her a couple of times to make sure she’s holding on properly.

And.

He puts his arm around her waist.

By pure instinct.

(Instinct, he _swears_!)

So she scoots even closer.

“Ready?” he asks, false bravado winning over.

MJ is calm.

Collected.

Expressionless.

“Yup.”

Peter grins, feeling the mask stretch with the movement. “Okay—three, two, one…”

* * *

_Thwip!_

* * *

Somehow, Peter finds that MJ screaming her head off while he swings through the city is more endearing than her enjoying the view and, like, possibly doing a movie-like cutscene of her and him having A Moment™️ mid-air.

It is also _freaking hilarious_.

“OKAY, _OOOKAY_ ,” MJ seethe-screeches, arms tightening around his neck as she tucks her face closer to his jaw. Her voice drops to a shaky whisper. “Peter? Not. Not fun. Negative ten-outta-ten.”

He chuckles, the smile on his face likely felt on her forehead. “You know that meme where there’s like—” _Thwip!_ “—there’s a list of characters and you—” _Thwip!_ “—you have one that’s ‘looks like they could kill you’—” _Thwip!_ “—‘but is actually a cinnamon roll’?” _Thwip!_

“I want to _die_ ,” MJ grumbles between gut-dropping screams, eyes clamped shut and legs wrapped tightly around his middle.

“You’re that meme!” Peter laughs, _thwipping_ once more before glancing at her and asking, “Hey, Karen? Are you recording this?”

“ _Yes. I record everything, Peter._ ”

Devilish _cackling_ as he has the _audacity_ to look over again mid-swing—just enough to record her annoyed, petrified, _non-stoic_ reaction to the short, swooping drop.

MJ snuggles closer, but the way her hands jab at the side of his neck makes him think it’s a threat.

Like, not a very well-thought out threat, but still.

“Do you want me to let go?” Peter teases, the smugness reaching through his mask and smile, traveling through air and hair and flesh and mind.

“ _Do nOT_ ,” MJ yells after another slight drop, inflection matching their trajectory. One of her hands moves up to his head, pushing down as her other hand digs into his shoulder.

Oho.

Oh, yes.

This?

A good idea.

Excellent.

_Priceless._

* * *

MJ’s legs are secure around his waist, and her hands are glued to his neck and shoulder, and her head? It’s right by his, teeth visibly clenched and eyes determined to never open again.

“You okay?” Peter asks sweetly when they land, finally, at the entrance of Penn Station.

(She’s probably not.

Karen was saying something about _almost passing out_ and _rising blood pressure_ around the last block, and MJ had gone mostly quiet save for the hissing curses accompanying every attempt at sticking to his body and _not falling off_.)

(But it’s polite to ask!)

It’s commendable, really, the speed at which she hops off and returns to a standing, aloof position, hands fiddling with the ends of her overshirt.

(It feels a little weird to have more than a foot of space between them.

Feels a little off, a little wrong.)

 _Gulp_ , visible but quickly hidden. “Um. Yeah, I’m fine. I just _—_ never gone that high. So.”

“Good, good,” he says, nodding his head a little. He raises his hand. “Good job.”

She high-fives him, a smile breaking through her face.

(He want to  _melt._ )

“ _Peter, there is an alarm going off on 40th and 3rd_ ,” Karen says, effectively ending the moment.

“Oh! I gotta go,” he says, eyes blinking.

MJ puts her hands in her pockets, still breathless from...the swinging. Probably. “Okay,” she nods. 

“I’ll see you?”

(Sue him, it sounds desperate.)

“Yeah,” she smiles, head tilted in an awkward sort of bow.

“Bye!” he says, chipper and bright, jumping over the walking crowd. Up and up, up past the streetlight’s bulb, and higher once he shoots a web out.

Too high to turn back.

Too far to see her watching him go, a proud, subtle smile on her face as she stands in front of the onlookers with their phones out.

Doesn’t matter.

He can’t stop grinning anyway.

“Karen, calculate fastest route, please.”

* * *

Ned doesn’t kill him, and yes, it’s mostly because of the _footage_ , but he still complains that  _if_ _it’s_ MJ _who needs a ride, you become a SwUber, but when_ I _need to get from_ Central Park _to the_ Flatiron _, it’s a hard pass._

To which Peter simply replies:

“What’s a SwUber?”

* * *

(It’s a “swing uber”.)

* * *

(And yes, Ned got it trademarked.)

**Author's Note:**

> #SwUber
> 
> still pretty sure she doesn't say "peter" in that video but yknow what? ill give it to ya
> 
> (also totally called her freaking out at the swinging since i started writing for this fandom thanks for the validation @ j watts)
> 
> God bless yallll find me here or on doofwrites on tumblr! and if you care for set pic art: [checkit](http://doofusface.tumblr.com/post/179017741598/you-okay-twitter-commissions-please-dont)
> 
> comments n kudos mucho appreciated <3


End file.
